At the library the other day, I stuck my hand in my pocket to get my library card out of my wallet, and there it wasn't.
Not just the library card -- my whole wallet was missing.
WHOA.
As most wallets, mine included more than just the library card: a few credit cards, my driver's license, some cash, a frequent-bread-buyer coupon...
My brain just started collaborating with my iPhone and within about 45 minutes, while continuing with my normal matronly duties of driving kiddos every-which-where, I had cancelled all my credit cards, put myself on the fraud alert system with the credit bureaus, and told the library to be on the lookout. Then I ran home, grabbed every certificate and piece of paper I could think of to prove my existence and identity, and headed to the DMV. I warned my husband that it might be a while...
Eight minutes.
That is the truly miraculous end to my story. Eight minutes is all it took from when I walked in to the DMV to when I walked out, brand-spankin' new driver's license in hand.
WHOA again.
And then my cell phone rang. It was the librarian -- some good samaritan had turned in my wallet. Interestingly, when I called back my credit card companies, they still advised that I just get a new card instead, since that good samaritan had them in their possession long enough to have written everything down and try to use it online. They even mentioned that if that good samaritan had access to my driver's license with my address on it, I might want to keep an eye on my mailbox for when the new cards arrive.
Well, if that's what a good samaritan does, then of course, they aren't a good samaritan.
But at least I got my new driver's license in only eight minutes. I can focus on the positive!
Thursday, March 13, 2014
Saturday, February 22, 2014
Kudos to you, Mom!
Today, I've been at the Epilepsy Association's fundraiser, Crop Because You Care. Originally I signed up to just come and scrapbook all day long... but then I remembered my friend who has a surplus of scrapbooking stuff and likes to contribute to good causes. So she donated a bunch of it to be sold, with 60% of the proceeds going towards a summer camp for youth with epilepsy!
And I'm now sitting here selling items for the lowest price ever of 25 cents! WOW!!
Anyways... there are other vendors, of course, and I'm writing to sing the praises of the one right next to me. She brought her nine-year-old daughter as her assistant, and so I've had the opportunity to watch them interact. It has been beautiful!
They are selling bling -- fancy necklaces that have extra hooks so you can change how they hang. I am selling a different sort of bling -- stickers. As could be expected, the daughter is attracted to the items on my table, and asks how much they cost.
I tell her that because she is a good neighbor, she can have something for free!
Her mother graciously prompted her to show gratitude, and then as they start picking out a prize, their conversation goes something like this:
"Oh, that would go nicely in your room."
"I want this, I think."
"Okay. What would you do with that?"
"Umm, I don't know, I just like it."
"This is in that same style, and it could go on your bulletin board!"
"Yeah! Good idea! And this one sort of matches it."
"Well, Regan is giving us one free item. If you'd like more than one, you'll need to earn some money to pay for it. I have some lollipops that you can be in charge of selling so you can earn the money."
And then the sweet girl proceeded to sell the lollipops!
What did this wise mother teach in this transaction??
This event is taking place on the second floor of a movie theater, and there are a couple of handicap-accessible doors into the theaters. A few minutes ago, several teenagers appeared at the top of the stairs and, trying to act nonchalant, entered the theaters.
We fairly assumed that they were sneaking in.
And the mother commented with sadness in her voice to her daughter, "That's dishonest."
The daughter nodded, mirroring her mother's disappointment. Powerful.
Wow. Wow again! Hooray for this mom. Even though my blog won't win her any fame (since my blog doesn't get millions of readers), I am honoring her here -- and that seems to follow the pattern of motherhood. Doing it well won't make you famous, but it will impact the next generation in powerful ways.
And I'm now sitting here selling items for the lowest price ever of 25 cents! WOW!!
Anyways... there are other vendors, of course, and I'm writing to sing the praises of the one right next to me. She brought her nine-year-old daughter as her assistant, and so I've had the opportunity to watch them interact. It has been beautiful!
They are selling bling -- fancy necklaces that have extra hooks so you can change how they hang. I am selling a different sort of bling -- stickers. As could be expected, the daughter is attracted to the items on my table, and asks how much they cost.
I tell her that because she is a good neighbor, she can have something for free!
Her mother graciously prompted her to show gratitude, and then as they start picking out a prize, their conversation goes something like this:
"Oh, that would go nicely in your room."
"I want this, I think."
"Okay. What would you do with that?"
"Umm, I don't know, I just like it."
"This is in that same style, and it could go on your bulletin board!"
"Yeah! Good idea! And this one sort of matches it."
"Well, Regan is giving us one free item. If you'd like more than one, you'll need to earn some money to pay for it. I have some lollipops that you can be in charge of selling so you can earn the money."
And then the sweet girl proceeded to sell the lollipops!
What did this wise mother teach in this transaction??
- Choosing carefully, so as to avoid the acquisition of useless clutter.
- Respecting someone's style preference
- Earning money before spending it
- Patience! Gratitude! Salesmanship!
But it doesn't stop there...
This event is taking place on the second floor of a movie theater, and there are a couple of handicap-accessible doors into the theaters. A few minutes ago, several teenagers appeared at the top of the stairs and, trying to act nonchalant, entered the theaters.
We fairly assumed that they were sneaking in.
And the mother commented with sadness in her voice to her daughter, "That's dishonest."
The daughter nodded, mirroring her mother's disappointment. Powerful.
Wow. Wow again! Hooray for this mom. Even though my blog won't win her any fame (since my blog doesn't get millions of readers), I am honoring her here -- and that seems to follow the pattern of motherhood. Doing it well won't make you famous, but it will impact the next generation in powerful ways.
Thursday, February 20, 2014
My oldest child still isn't very old!
I am prone to guilty feelings, like many mothers. Maybe there is a chemical similarity between estrogen and guilt so our brains confuse them.
If I could go back and talk to my younger self about ways to avoid some of the memories I now regret, this is probably one if the most valuable tidbits of advice I could give her.
"Regan, remember, no matter how old your oldest child is, he still isn't very old."
My husband and I were chatting about how, when our oldest was four and our second child was two, our twins were born. We had two infants to compare to a toddler and his bigger brother. It seemed like Mr. Four Year Old could do just about everything, particularly when side-by-side with two babies who couldn't hold their own heads up!
So of course we treated him that way. We held him to very high expectations, and -- as should have been expected -- he didn't always live up to them. But I hadn't figured out how to handle failure yet, and spent far more time scowling at him, showing disappointment, even shaming that sweet, precious boy instead of helping him up when he fell.
If I could go back and do it over again, I would still expect him to be older and more mature. But in those times when he was just acting normal for his age and mental development, or even less-than...
I would hug him anyways.
I would encourage him to improve rather than punish him.
I would use a kinder voice while explaining the consequences of his actions.
I would tell him that I'd made similar mistakes too.
I would hold his hands while we worked together to clean up the mess or say sorry or whatever needed doing.
I know God let him come first because God knew he was a strong, resilient spirit who could overcome the failures of his parents. I take comfort in that. And sure enough, he's turning into a strapping young man -- taller than me and working to build his muscles so he'll be stronger than me.
And that's how it should be. I'm hoping he'll also be wiser than me. But I realize that he'll never be older than me, so I must always allow for that age gap... and show him mercy where I hope to have mercy shown to me.
I hope he knows how much I love him!
"Regan, remember, no matter how old your oldest child is, he still isn't very old."
My husband and I were chatting about how, when our oldest was four and our second child was two, our twins were born. We had two infants to compare to a toddler and his bigger brother. It seemed like Mr. Four Year Old could do just about everything, particularly when side-by-side with two babies who couldn't hold their own heads up!
So of course we treated him that way. We held him to very high expectations, and -- as should have been expected -- he didn't always live up to them. But I hadn't figured out how to handle failure yet, and spent far more time scowling at him, showing disappointment, even shaming that sweet, precious boy instead of helping him up when he fell.
If I could go back and do it over again, I would still expect him to be older and more mature. But in those times when he was just acting normal for his age and mental development, or even less-than...
I would hug him anyways.
I would encourage him to improve rather than punish him.
I would use a kinder voice while explaining the consequences of his actions.
I would tell him that I'd made similar mistakes too.
I would hold his hands while we worked together to clean up the mess or say sorry or whatever needed doing.
I know God let him come first because God knew he was a strong, resilient spirit who could overcome the failures of his parents. I take comfort in that. And sure enough, he's turning into a strapping young man -- taller than me and working to build his muscles so he'll be stronger than me.
And that's how it should be. I'm hoping he'll also be wiser than me. But I realize that he'll never be older than me, so I must always allow for that age gap... and show him mercy where I hope to have mercy shown to me.
I hope he knows how much I love him!
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